


Servant

by Metric_Mayhem



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metric_Mayhem/pseuds/Metric_Mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emmy returns to London after a very long 3+ year absence. She decides to celebrate in an unorthodox manner: by ordering a manservant. Needless to say, she receives a surprise when a familiar man arrives on her doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Servant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zillabean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zillabean/gifts).



Emmy grinned to herself as she sat on her couch with a sigh. She hardly has an opportunity to relax since she moved back to London. Her old job as a reporter and photographer led her to many countries far and wide in search for the latest scoop. Needless to say, it fed her wanderlust and kept her busy for quite some time— about three years now. During those days, she felt homesick and even lonely without her old friends.

When given the decision, she thought it was best to return and settle down for the time being. It was nice being back, but with moving came lugging suitcases and boxes. And with lugging suitcases and boxes came moving furniture to appropriate places, unpacking and all the backbreaking work that can lead one to exhaustion. She really would have called for some help, but she wanted the time of her return to stay a surprise.

With some extra money she saved, she decided to treat herself. In hindsight, she could have easily bought some wine for the occasion or went out to a nice restaurant. However, a friend that she worked with suggested something far more interesting: “How about a 'manservant'?” Admittedly, she was not the one to go about hiring for such a... service. But after confirming what the contract would entail, she slowly agreed. There was one catch out of the entire thing, the person she hired was chosen at random.

The woman pulled up the sleeve to her sweatshirt to reveal her watch. A little past noon, he should almost be here, she mused. A little apprehension came over her. How will the day go? Who would be this mystery servant? The ex-reporter shrugged off those feelings. There was no use having her nerves worked up now.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Twelve-thirty on the dot, that's impressive timing, she marveled.

She opened the door to finally put an end to the suspense.

In the door was a man wearing a three-piece suit. He took off his top hat, bowed his head and politely recited, “Ah yes. Good afternoon, miss. I shall be your humble servant toda-”

His lips tightened shut into a very obvious cringe after he realized who stood in front of him. “E-Emmy?”

“P-Professor!?”

It was Professor Layton, renowned archeologist, teacher, puzzle solver and...temporary manservant. One could wonder what compelled him to take this particular job. He was a gentleman that would not even venture in such a venue, and yet here he is. It was certainly a mystery to be solved. She shall have to ask him.

He looked at the paper he held in his hand to confirm he was given the correct address. His mind tried to process everything as best as possible.

“Emmy? I... I thought you were going to be in Germany for another three weeks.”

“I er... wanted to surprise everyone when I came over to visit... So um, surprise?”

“Ahem, quite... the surprise, indeed. I'm very happy to see you, nonetheless,” he flashed a genuine smile.

The smile was very infectious, as she grinned as well. “Me too... Well, since you came such a long way, want to come in?”

“Erm... Of course.”

Thoughts started to race in her head. Her ex-boss was there, as a “manservant”. If things weren't already awkward, she was going to ask for her old job back before this happened. Anything done at this point could make or break her chances of returning as his assistant. No pressure, right?

She led him to the couch and offered him a seat, which he courteously accepted. Once she sat next to him, the room was filled with an awkward silence.

Emmy finally spoke up. “So um...did you need some extra cash?”

He knew she was about to ask about his current... position. Hesitantly, he answered, “Yes... that would be correct.”

“Any reason?”

Silence entered the room again as he chose his words carefully. While a gentleman must be forward and honest, he doesn't wish to reveal his true reasons quite yet. After all, from what he could tell, she too was hiding something. He would... unfortunately have to come up with something else in the meanwhile.

“Well, I need it for an out-of-town archeological exhibition. The cost of attending was fairly high.”

Emmy's eyebrow rose at that. Usually, the professor could just leave for an exhibition whenever he pleases, so long as there was someone that could substitute as a teacher for that time period. She guessed that he might be going with a group and needed to pay for travel. She might ask to join him at some point.

“...Right.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, seeing as the address given to me was correct, I... would assume that you summoned for my services. What did you have in store for me?”

“Haha, oh me? Uh, you know... a little help moving some furniture around, cleaning...”

He then gave her a questioning look. “Couldn't you have hired a housekeeper for that sort of help?”

She stayed silent for a moment. With her mind going a mile a minute she finally said, “Well, yeah! But the prices for a housekeeper were really high!”

“Not to discredit what you say, Emmy, but the price to hire a... 'manservant' is much higher than that of a housekeeper.”

“Uh, a-are you sure?”

“I am certain.”

Layton's eyes caught a flash of white from her left pocket. It looked like a piece of paper; stationery to be exact. That must be the order sheet he was required to read. However, Emmy doesn't appear to have any desire of disclosing that sort of information. If his duties were simply to clean and move furniture, she would not be acting in such a suspicious manner.

The woman noticed him and shoved the paper further into her pocket. “Riiight...” In a split moment, she decided to stall for time. “Could I interest you in some tea?”

The teacher's brows furrowed slightly in dismay. A gentleman never passes the opportunity for tea. On the other hand, he does not like being left in the dark about her intentions (especially considering everything else so far was supposed to be a surprise). He hesitantly accepted.

She clasped her hands together and set off to find a tea kettle.

He was fairly quick to understand that this was a ploy to change the topic and would gladly leave this all behind him. Unfortunately, by the policy of his job, unless the person canceled the entire appointment prior, he must carry out whatever order was written on company stationery. Those were the rules given to him, and as a gentleman he will abide by said rules. That being said, he must find a way to retrieve that paper slip and get to work before the day is over. ...But how?

\---------

Once she poked her head out from the kitchen, she called out, “Alright! Tea's read- er... Professor?”

She noticed the man sitting on the couch, seeming to have a much different atmosphere than before. His normal reserved smile was exchanged with something more confident, boisterous even. Her throat felt mysteriously dry. Emmy swallowed in hopes of ridding it.

“Ah yes, Emmy, there you are. Please do have a seat,” he patted on the empty spot right next to him.

“But the tea-”

“I insist.” Did she hear his voice lower?

Before she knew it, he slinked behind her and began rubbing her shoulder. She gasped and instinctively arched her back against his touch. Strained muscles relaxed, skin tingled, and held breaths expelled. Professor Layton, giving her a massage? This was an opportunity she never achieved before. As she lost herself to the feeling, she stared ahead of her.

“You really seem tense, my dear. Relax; this is your home after all.” His hands moved lower to the small of her back. She whimpered a bit in response. One hand placed on her hip to keep her steady. He ran his thumb up and down her back slowly, inciting small moans from her.

Layton's cheeks colored. He wasn't expecting her to be that involved in the massage. It was an ungentlemanly tactic, but he needed to stall her long enough to fish out the order sheet from her pocket with as much stealth as possible. With any luck, he would just apologize for such an abrupt (yet, oddly satisfying) action after retrieving it.

“P-Professor...” she called out to him in a daze.

“I'm sure you're feeling much more relaxed now,” he withdrew his hands and hid them in the pockets of his own pants. “My most sincere apologies for that unwarranted touch. While I only regard your best interests, I seem to have forgotten how ungentlemanly it is to do such actions unannounced... P-Please forgive me.”

As if a spell wore off, she blinked and turned her attention to him. “...Um, sure.”

“I hope that I didn't distract you too long. I'd hate for the tea water to get cold...”

“Shoot!” Now that she noticed the amount of time that passed, she headed back the kitchen.

He breathed a sigh of relief and pulled his hands out of his pockets to reveal the order sheet he plucked from her. The crumpled paper was then unraveled to reveal what was written. Layton peered at the paper, somewhat astonished. She certainly was one for demands, he admitted to himself. Nevertheless, it's his responsibility to see to them. He hoped he could summon all the courage necessary to start. There was no way he would do as she asked under normal circumstances... Perhaps if he did such actions, she might elaborate her reason for hiring him after.

With a tea set on hand, Emmy strolled back in. “Ok, I got your earl grey ready. Now that's two sugars no cream right- Professor?”

She found him without his jacket, his body leaning against a loveseat that sat in the room. “Yes, that's perfect. Thank you very much, Emmy.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. Just what was he planning?

“Oh, mind putting my tea cup somewhere else? I'm just about to move the furniture...”

“Uh, no, you don't have to... really!”

“But you needed them relocated, correct? Just give me the proper locations for each, and it shall be done. …In addition, shall I...'put my back into it?'”

She felt her skin crawl. This was too coincidental of a time to notice some form of attractive quality in his voice. It was also too coincidental for him to recite something written on that order sheet she wrote. Now that she paid full attention to him, the removal of his jacket revealed a tight-fitting dress shirt that hugged his arms and midriff. The subtle presence of musculature was getting to be much to bear. It was time to pull herself together before she becomes lost in her own thoughts.

“I guess if you really must help me, I'll sketch where I'd like everything...”

She fetched a loose slip of paper and scanned the room before she scribbled down approximate places for all the furniture. He walked over to her and leaned in to get a better view. Emmy shuddered after she felt his warm breath hit her neck. The tension between them thickened.

Admittedly, she was and still is attracted to him. There was something about him, be it his kindness, intelligence, or overall personality that made him loveable (good looks served a bonus). During her time as his assistant, she dropped subtle hints of her infatuation by doing extra favors for him. It went unnoticed, but she paid it little mind. It was all for him.

Perhaps now he's reciprocating interest in her as well. He hasn't denied serving her for the day, and is up close and personal with the intent to make sure she was satisfied. The thought of him treating her to her heart's desires drove her mad. Before long, she lost control of her thoughts and started to draw in a haphazardly way.

The tip of the pencil finally snapped after she applied too much pressure.

“Ugh! Darn tip broke...” she growled in lament.

“Oh, you have a pencil sharpener on your desk. Here, allow me.” His gentle hand plucked the pencil from her grip before he went to work.

She watched, mesmerized by the hand movements. The sharpener slowly twirled around the tip of the pencil. His hand was firmly gripped at its base as he held it steady. Around it went until he deemed it was perfect.  With the tip properly sharpened, he finally blew the shavings off it. If there was a time she wanted to take a quick jog outside to get her mind off things, it'd be now.

“Here you go.” He held the pencil out to her.

“...Yes.” An unsteady hand took it from his grasp.

“Is... everything alright?”

“Yes.”

“Well, while you sketch up the last portion of the layout, is there anything else you'd like me to do?”

“ _Yes_... I-I mean no! No! That's fine!” After a moment of embarrassment, she snapped from her daze.

The sketch was then finished off and passed over to him. The man smiled and looked over the paper carefully. He looked up from the drawing every so often to compare the layout.

His eyes flashed as he looked to her with gentle smile. “Shall I scrub the floor after the furniture's squared away?”

“....Yeah,” she said hesitantly. “Let me help you move that couch.”

Before she marched off, he lightly grabbed her hand. “Oh no, no, no... This is the job you appointed me for. I insist you relax while I take care of everything.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Professor, you will throw your back out that way! I can't just let you move some of that heavy furniture without some help at least.”

He pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes. “I'm afraid I must decline. I have a way of handling things, Miss Altava. Hopefully you trust me that much to do all that heavy lifting whilst you relax.”

“But-”

“If you please.”

“Oh, alright. Just don't hurt yourself.”

The man chuckled. “Don't worry about that. As a matter of fact, I think I'll be able to get exactly as you've drawn out by moving only five different types of furniture.”

The woman scratched her head. She started to notice the twinkle in his eyes as he began to survey the room. He was thinking of the entire request as a puzzle. This average task may prove interesting to both of them.

Once he breathed in a sigh, he set off to work pulling out two smaller chairs with each hand. The chairs were placed in the desired spot, nearest to the opposite wall. Afterwards, he turned his back to the couch and began budging it vertically to move the table next to a table with a lamp nearby. He felt his muscles getting sore. Eventually, they gave into the strain and throbbed with ache. Luckily, his work with moving the furniture was complete. Just as he expected, he finished within five moves from pushing two different types of furniture at once.

Emmy watched as her ‘servant’ stretched out his arms. The sweat that gathered around his neck did not escape her sight; neither did the light panting he tried to hide. Was he trying to impress her in some way? The thought made her want to laugh to herself; like the professor would want to impress her by just moving around furniture.

Although he was still clad with his dress shirt and pants, she couldn’t help but envision some of the muscles she didn’t think he would have underneath. The dress shirt was tight and stretched around the contours of his biceps and more so for his subtle abs. Perhaps they were just more pronounced from just being used and being stretched out. She would have known exactly if that was true at the end of the day, if she didn’t make sure the paper was safely tucked away in pocket. Oh yes, with the paper safely tucked away on her, he’d have no way of finding out that last request. ...Or so she hoped.

Layton clapped his hands. “Well, since that’s been taken care of, let’s get started with those floors!”

Emmy looked at the long-forgotten tea set. The water was probably cold (again) and she didn’t feel the need to fire up the stove to warm it once more. Perhaps it was for the best that was put aside, as she had a feeling he saw right through her. For now she would least carry on this act so she would not seem suspicious.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, right. I’ll be right back with a bucket and mop and you can get started.”

Sometime later after receiving said mop and bucket, the professor set off to swab the wooden floors. He lifted up the cleaning tool every so often to inspect any rogue grime on the floor that required his immediate attention. The chore was simpler in comparison to the last, and he barely put forth anything more than the manual effort that was needed of him. The head of the mop reached into each surface area not once, but three times total, until the floors practically reflected the man’s figure.

Emmy looked at the now-polished floors. “Wow, now that’s spick-and-span! Great work!”

Layton readjusted his hat as he gave a tired smile. “So, this is what Rosa does every day… She certainly deserves a raise.”

“Strange how this place gathered a LOT of dust and dirt before I even moved in.” she mused as she scratched her head, “Thank you so much, professor!”

“Think nothing of it. ’Tis my job for the moment. And even if it wasn’t, I’m still more than happy to oblige.”

“Since all your jobs are finished, how about we finally drink some tea?”

“I’m not one for turning down such an offer, but… there’s still the matter of one more assignment, Miss Altava.”

“W-what? There’s nothing else. You rearranged all the furniture and you cleaned the floors. That’s um… all I hired you for.”

“Hmm… There was one that I recall about a...dance.”

She cringed and questions clouded her thoughts in rapid-fire. How could he have possibly known this? That paper was safely tucked away in her pockets. The brunette blinked for a moment, then swiftly checked her person. Her eyes then widened in shock. Her quick idea as a saving grace was gone. She was as good as toast.

“Now then, correct me if I’m wrong about this, but… wasn’t the dance supposed to be… ‘nice and slow’?”

“Erk!” She reeled back.

“And this same dance, I was supposed to—oh, I don’t know— ‘be engaging’?”

“W-What? I… I think you’re mistaken.”

“Am I? It is in your own words… as written here.” He pulled out the wrinkled paper and held it in front of her.

“...I guess there’s really no hiding it from you anymore, huh?” she timidly looked away. “Yeah. It is my order sheet.”

She felt the possible judgment that would follow her statement. Vehemently lying isn’t anything a true lady would do, much less any person working as Layton’s assistant (after all, similar circumstances involving lies ended with her leaving). With her original request found out, she could very well consider her original job gone. The brunette heaved a heavy sigh and mentally prepared herself for the worst.

Detecting some of the anguish she felt, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down and relax?”

“H-Huh?” Emmy felt his hand brush hers as she was led to the couch.

“Please.”

As soon as she sat down, he was off to another part of the room. The top-hatted man examined the lines of vinyl that sat under the record player. A lot of the choices he couldn’t quite pick what would be appropriate for his dance from lack of experience. After he grabbed a stack of records, he walked over and spread them out in his hands.

“You’re much more well-versed in music than I am… why don’t you choose the best one for me to use?”

“You’re actually…?” Her eyes widened as a chuckle left her lips.

Nervous laughter accompanied hers; he couldn’t believe his own actions either. “Just humor me a little. Pick any you’d like me to use.”

“Well...Okay, if you insist.”

Her finger grazed across each cover idly. After stopping on a jazz record, she pulled it out from Layton’s hands and held it up to him. Without a word, he took it, along with the other records, and made his way back. With the player now set, the man felt his apprehension kick in again. Questions flooded his mind as the music began to play. He could only force his mind to settle before facing his audience.

The upbeat music filled the room, leaving the man to tap his foot and gauge the rhythm. He breathed in silently to calm his ever-quickening heart. Once he spread his legs apart from each other, he allowed his hips to roll in tempo. With his head leaned back, he slid both of his hands down his chest to his hips. In turn, her eyes followed until absentmindedly stopping at the hipline of his pants.

He lifted his shirt up slightly, revealing part of his abs that were glistened with sweat. His audience's breath hitched as the well-dressed man began unbuttoning his top. Heart beats filled his ears, almost in rhythm with the jazzy tune. Could he actually be enjoying being a...private performer for her?

Emmy’s face turned bright shade of red as she giggled in delight. This had gone better than expected, leaving her quite relieved. She would not have figured he would even think of doing this at all. Now that she thought of it, what was he planning to do? Was he doing this for the job, or for her? One thing was certain to her: the orders she wrote down were followed to the letter.

“I do hope you’re enjoying yourself dear,” her chin was lifted up to properly meet the face of man, “your time’s not quite up yet.”

Now with her attention back towards him, she noticed the man’s shirt completely undone as well as a flustered smile on his face. Her eyes trailed down to his tight abdomen. Goodness was he fit! She nearly made an audible sigh on her own accord from the sight, but she withheld it in time. After all, she still needed to ask him about being his assistant again. If this is to work out, assistants need to be on their best behavior. ...Even if the urge to touch certain musculature is present.

“Ah...” she managed to make out. “Right! I’m, um… enjoying myself a bunch, professor!”

“Oh, splendid.” He gave a sigh of relief and leaned forward onto the coffee table in front of her. “For a moment, I thought you wouldn’t be properly entertained.”

The dress shirt that was hanging off his shoulders finally slid off and onto the floor. Brown eyes widened and dilated. That urge became a want, a need. Almost mechanically, she moved her hand up to reach precious skin. Immediately, a finger lightly pushed against the top of her hand and dragged it downward.

“Ah, ah, ah… Sorry Emmy, but that goes against the contract.”

She cringed. That particular action caused her to realize that she was slowly lose control of her own actions. “Come on, Emmy. You have better self-control than that,” she chastised herself.

The man chuckled --almost teasingly-- and took a few steps back before going back to undulating his hips once more. With her eyes drawn to him, he felt strangely invigorated. To be a gentleman was of utmost importance, however, he was more daring now. All that mattered to him was staying in rhythm to the music and giving her the best dance he could offer (as part of the job, he kept reminding himself).

He glanced over to the clock. There was only another fifteen minutes before the session was over. After he looked back to her, he noticed she was leaned forward in her seat and giving him undivided attention. He then saw it, that same desire she displayed earlier in the form of clapping and whistling.

She couldn’t help herself anymore. If she was going to watch, she would at least encourage him. “M-More! Oh please, more, Professor!”

A blush formed on his cheeks. His mind was in a haze over her, inclined to continue his act. Hands wandered down to his dress pants as he swaggered along the living room. Said pants  slid down his legs, revealing quite scandalous apparel: tuxedo printed underwear (courtesy of his job). As his hips swayed in suggestive motions, his trousers continued their journey down to his ankles.

Emmy fell back in her seat, stunned. With only one article of clothing left from seeing him in full view, she was nearly driven to madness. She could no longer hold back her giggles and obvious staring. The man she watched had her enamored, intoxicated, and enthralled by everything he did. This was easily the best evening she has had in a very long time.

A breath was caught in his throat as he felt the odd, yet familiar sensation of his underwear growing tight around him. His ex-assistant looked down momentarily then looked back up to him with her mouth agape. He tried alleviating his discomfort by pulling his briefs away from himself momentarily. He followed her eyes down until he finally noticed the cause of his discomfort: the hard-on he gained.

He quickly released his grip and coughed while he checked the time. “Ah, erm… it’s eight o’clock in the evening. Our allotted time is up.”

“...Huh?” Emmy’s passionate gaze at the professor subsided upon being called.

He began to pick up the clothes that strayed from him. “Well, it’s for me to go.”

It was rather convenient for him that it was getting late; he would have ended up in a fairly difficult situation. He hoped she would not question why he decided to perform such an act in front of her--even if she did request it. Emmy on the other hand, was not one to leave a question unanswered. Thus she implored the topic once he finished dressing himself.

“Er, professor, if you don’t mind, why DID you decide to dance for me? You could have easily have turned down the request. ...Not to say I didn’t enjoy it or anything. But all of this goes against your usual ‘gentleman code’. ”

“Well, there are two reasons for this: One, I must abide by what is written for me, otherwise I would not be paid for the entire session.”

“Oh,” feeling dejected, she gave him a bitter smile. “I guess that excavating trip really means a lot to you, huh?”

Before the thought of him being selfish sank in, he looked away from her.

“Which leads into my second reason. I needed to complete that order to obtain money for a relaxing trip. Erm, for the two of us, if I’m not being too bold.”

Her eyes widened. “W-What!?”

He faced her again with a flushed face and a gentle smile.“Emmy, when you wrote to me that you were coming back some time ago, I...I was overjoyed. I could finally meet you again and be able to talk to you, face to face. Perhaps start things anew, not just as associates, but as friends as well.”

She got over her initial shock to retort while smirking, “Er, no offense Professor, but… you crossed the borderline of friendship a moment ago by showing me your briefs.”

“Right, th-that...” He supposed there was no way of escaping that. “Ahem, well, the reason I did that…Ah, I wanted to- What I mean is...”

Layton was met with a brief hug from the woman. “It’s okay. I understand. And I won’t force you to say that much. Thank you so much for everything.”

He wrapped his arms around her in return. After glancing at the clock, he pulled away from her and placed a hand on top of her head. Her brown hair was gorgeous and silky smooth to the touch; so admirably so to the top-hatted man. As much as he hated it, his time with her was up. It was fairly late and it would be rude for him to stay any longer than necessary.

“I best be off.” He turned to the door and started walking out.

“Wait!”

He turned back to her and gave a questioning look. “Is something the matter?”

“You don’t have any other people for the day right?”

“Well, no. Why?”

“Would you like to stay and perhaps… do some overtime?”

He blinked. “Technically speaking, my job doesn’t really have overtime if you consider the time frames-”

She wordlessly grabbed him by his pants and pulled him close. “Overtime doesn’t have to be by the job, you know.”

“...Right. Of course, if it so pleases the lady.”

Emmy smiled. “It certainly does. I expect an encore performance in 10 minutes.”


End file.
